


Mystery Incorporated

by colormyheartred



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Mystery, Scooby Doo AU, Secret Relationship, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colormyheartred/pseuds/colormyheartred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang discovers a creepy house in the middle of the forest rumored to be haunted by the ghost of a mad man while they’re on the search for the missing Darling children. Also, Emma and Killian try to keep their relationship secret from the rest of the team. (or, the kinda-sorta-scooby doo au nobody asked me for, minus the nonsensical chase sequences set to music, the laugh tracks, and a pup named Scooby Doo)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mystery Incorporated

The scents of coffee, eggs, and bacon mingle in the air as Emma Swan enters the diner locals affectionately call Granny’s.

Her hair is tied up and she’s in her Granny’s outfit, complete with a rectangular name tag that hangs from her chest.

Granny herself stands behind the counter filling an order and Emma tosses a hand at her before she can say anything.

“My car broke down this morning so I had to bring it to the shop.”

Granny sighs and gives her a look. “That’s the third time this week, Emma.”

Emma grabs her apron from the hanger in the kitchen and ties it around her middle. “I don’t know what to tell you.” Because it’s a complete lie. “German engineering at it’s finest.”

Granny hums. “Table six is all yours. I’ll be in the back.” She stops herself. “Oh, and your boyfriend called in an order. It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

She gapes at the old woman, about to argue that she doesn’t _have_ a boyfriend, but Granny just walks into the back room and leaves Emma to do her job.

Truth be told, she hates it. She hates every single second of it.

Working as a waitress was supposed to be a part-time, temporary solution until she could get back up on her feet and find another job someplace in town. It’s already been three months and she’s a little more than stuck in this stupid job, even if Granny is the kindest boss she’s ever had.

Emma looks around the room and quickly discovers a booth in the back, occupied by three familiar faces.

Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan sit together, as per their usual, while Regina Mills takes the opposite side.

She steps up to their table and takes her notepad from her apron pocket. She clicks the top of her pen and sighs. “What can I get for you?”

“I told you, I know people in town that need help,” Mary Margaret offers with a teasing lilt to her tone.

Mary Margaret’s hopeful expression would be sickening, but she’s the reason Emma came to Storybrooke, and she’s the reason she’s staying.

They’d met a while ago while Emma was working as a bail bondsperson and Mary Margaret had told her all about her happy life here in Storybrooke.

“Mary Margaret, I don’t need a new job,” Emma insists. “I can take care of myself.”

Mary Margaret gives her a pointed look but doesn’t say anything.

From beside her, David smiles softly. He’s the most boyish adult she’s ever seen, especially when he’s hanging around with Mary Margaret.

“You know, the animal shelter could always use more hands.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Stop trying to get me a new job. I’m fine here. What do you want to eat?”

Regina, in all of her regal appearance, leans her chin into her palm as her elbow is braced atop the table. She isn’t paying any attention to the conversation whatsoever, instead engrossed in reading something in the local paper.

“God damn you, Sydney,” she suddenly says, shaking her head with disgust. “He totally repurposed that article I wrote last week on those missing Darling children. Turned it into some puff piece on the police instead.”

Regina grits her teeth and rolls her eyes firmly. “And to think I thought I would ever become a serious journalist writing for the Storybrooke Daily Mirror.”

Mary Margaret tilts her head sadly and Emma chews on her lip as she stands at the head of the table. She checks the rest of the patrons, just a handful of people already enjoying their breakfast, and raps her fingers on the back of her notebook.

“I’m sure it’ll get better, Regina,” Mary Margaret tries, smiling gently at the woman sitting across from her.

Regina scoffs. “Right. If I can somehow use my _magical_ _powers_ to make Glass do what _I_ want him to do.”

Emma glances toward the door as the bell tinkles and her teeth graze her lower lip at the sight of the ever suave Killian Jones.

Right on time.

He winks at her and she all but groans, rolling her eyes.

He’s dressed in all black, his leather jacket accentuating what he believes to be his badassery.

He takes the pair of sunglasses he’s wearing and tucks them into his shirt, then rakes his fingers through his hair as if he’s in some sort of 1950s biker gang and any number of the female patrons in this diner will be swooning over him, begging for his phone number, when in reality no one truly cares.

Except for maybe Emma.  And that’s only on good days.

“Well, Swan,” he says, coming toward her and stopping just short of the booth she’s standing in front of. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She awards him a classic glare and steers him away from the booth where Regina, Mary Margaret, and David are still discussing her job, and ends up standing with him at the bar counter.

“I told you to stop showing up while I’m working, Killian,” she tells him lowly.

He smiles wryly, reaching up to tug at her ponytail. “Now, Swan, I’m rather famished after a rather long, tiring night last night. It wouldn’t be fair to deny me sustenance, now, would it?”

Emma takes a deep breath and tips her head away so he drops his hand from her hair. She glares at him, long and hard, and shakes her head. “You already had like six pancakes this morning.”

He lights up, his eyebrows flying sky-high as a grin threatens to split open his face. “Now how would you know about that, Emma?”

His tongue darts out against his lips to wet them and Emma releases a weak shudder of breath.

“Shut up.”

She spins on her heels to go take care of Mary Margaret’s table and by the time she reaches it, the bell above the door tinkles again. Sheriff Graham steps inside and instantly, Emma finds herself looking at Killian.

Killian stiffens at the sight of the man, his jaw clenching and his fingers curling into a fist as he averts his gaze to the kitchen.

“Now _there’s_ an interesting story,” Regina says wryly.

Emma turns her attention back to the table and shakes her head. “What? Graham and Jones?”

Regina lifts her eyebrows and her smile spreads. “No, I mean _you_ and Jones.”

Emma scoffs and shakes her head some more, as if it will accentuate her point at all. “There is no  _me_ _and Jones_.” She holds up her notepad. “Tell me what you want for breakfast before I tell Granny you want three specials. Don’t you guys have work to get to?”

# # #

Mary Margaret Blanchard walks the hallway of city hall with a smile on her lips.

She holds the strap of her purse against her arm and takes it off as soon as she reaches her desk, sighing as she starts up her computer.

She hears the mayor in the office behind her arguing with someone, and it’s enough to make her bite on her lip as she hesitates at their connecting door with a cup of Granny’s best hot coffee.

“And I’m telling you that there isn’t anything wrong with a little white lie every so often,” the mayor’s voice carries, a laugh in her tone.

“It’s not a white lie. It’s just bad journalism. Children have gone missing.”

“Honestly, Sydney, if you can’t cover this up for me, maybe it’s best you accept that job in Boston.”

Mary Margaret swallows thickly. Chills run down her arms, even though she’s wearing her favorite knit cardigan, and she closes her eyes for a moment before knocking twice on the door and entering.

She spreads a smile for the mayor and finds her sitting at her desk with Sydney Glass directly across from her. He looks uncomfortable, fidgety, and he grabs his hat from Mayor Mills’ desk before rising to his feet.

“I… I’ll be going, Mayor.”

The mayor hums, staring only at him. “We’ll talk later, Sydney.”

Mary Margaret comes to stand at the desk of her boss and smiles, straightening out. “Good morning, Madame Mayor. I hope you don’t mind your coffee a little colder. It’s getting kind of cold outside.”

The woman smiles and nods. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you, Mary Margaret.”

Mary Margaret sets the coffee down on Mayor Mills’ desk and finds the all caps title: “Storybrooke’s Finest” on the front page of the daily paper.

The very article Regina had been complaining about earlier over breakfast.

Curious, Mary Margaret decides she’ll have to check out the article later on her own, but first, she clears her throat when the mayor starts sipping her coffee and scanning paperwork on her desk.

“Do you need anything else this morning?”

Cora Mills meets her eyes and pulls on a smile. “No. Thank you.”

Mary Margaret feels a chill running down her spine and she knows it’s ridiculous of her to think that Storybrooke would ever be without its secrets and corruption, but she knows what’s right and what’s wrong, and three missing children certainly isn’t right.

# # #

As David Nolan walks into work, he has chills running up his arms from the cold.

He smiles as soon as he’s in the animal shelter, glad to be out from the chilly, gloomy day outside, and licks his lips as he heads into the back room to grab his uniform.

The door opens as he’s settling his badge onto his chest and he calls out, “Be right there!”

David logs his time-in and then hurries back out front to find a sweet looking girl, a redhead named Ariel, standing there with a puppy in her arms.

“Hi,” she sighs. “I was on a walk this morning and I found this dog wandering all by herself in the forest. She was barking and I think she belongs to someone, because she’s wearing this collar.”

David furrows his brow as he steps forward to examine the tags on the collar. “Nana,” he reads aloud. “Huh. She was just wandering around?”

Ariel nods. “Yes. Well, she was near a house.”

“A house.” David repeats.

Ariel nods again. “I tried the doorbell but no one answered the door so I thought… maybe you could take her in? I don’t know where else to look.”

David pulls on a smile. “Of course. I’ll take her.”

Ariel and David exchange Nana and when David has her in his arms, he’s pleasantly surprised by her tongue over his cheek.

“Okay, Nana,” he chuckles. “Let’s see if we can get you washed up. Maybe your owners will come looking for you by then.”

# # #

Killian Jones sits on the stairs of his ship, a cigarette pressed between his lips, as he stares out at the horizon. He pulls it out of his mouth and releases a cloud of smoke, ignoring the way the sea breeze gives him chills.

He’s got a ship full of cargo and his nerves are on high alert, though he tries to play it off as he takes long drags from his nasty habit.

“Granny’s To-Go.” Emma’s voice carries from the gangplank.

He turns, surprised, and rises to his feet. A devilish smirk curls at his lips and he steps towards her. “Well, Swan, this is a first.”

Emma shrugs, her eyebrows dancing as she moves toward him on his ship. “I know. I’m the biggest mystery in this town. Or so I’ve heard.”

Killian tilts his head to the side, smirking as he studies his company and he has another drag of his cigarette. “You know, Storybrooke is a bit of a dark mystery, isn’t it?”

“Why do you think so?” she asks, and he can tell she genuinely cares to know what he thinks.

“Small town,” he says, “everyone knows each other. Nothing ever changes. I swear there isn’t any technology aged past nineteen ninety.”

He releases another puff of his cigarette. Emma coughs.

“Can you quit that already?” she asks. “You know I hate it when you smoke.”

Killian flicks his cigarette into the harbor and licks his lips. He clears his throat. “I heard about the missing kids. The oldest is ten. Middle one’s eight. Youngest is five.”

Emma hums. She looks up at him with her pretty green eyes and Killian finds himself stepping closer to her, wishing he could kiss her under the gloomy gray skies to make the sun come out.

“Where’d you hear that from?”

“You know where.” Killian says lowly.

“Yeah.”

Killian swallows, tipping his head down.

It’s been five years since he lost his brother and every day that passes makes him ever more despised by the town, though all he wants to do is make life easier for those who’ve been abandoned and orphaned.

Emma holds out her bag of food and raises an eyebrow. “I’m here because it’s my lunch break and I heard something earlier I think you’ll want to know. It’s definitely not because I like you.”

He smiles ever wider as they step towards one another and Emma, when she stands before him, studies his face and says, “Don’t look at me like that, _Pirate_.”

“You wound me, love,” he teases, though he enjoys it when she nudges him in the chest with the bag of food. He takes it in time with her dropping it and he watches as her hips sway while she walks toward the door that leads down below, where they’ve spent many a night together.

“Come on. Below deck, Captain.”

The way she says it, as if she’s so certain he’ll follow, makes him roll his eyes, because bloody hell he’s _not_ wrapped around her pretty thin fingers like she pretends he is.

But he follows her anyway.

As soon as they stand in the kitchen, Killian sets Granny’s To-Go down on the counter and rummages through the cabinets while Emma settles herself down at the table, as if she belongs there, and it’s a curious thing, seeing her so at home here when she won’t let him even come close to touching her in public.

“Graham had some choice words about you when you left,” Emma tells him.

Killian scowls, shaking his head. He pulls open the bag and finds two grilled cheese sandwiches amidst a pile of onion rings and a smile fills his lips regardless of the frustration he feels over Storybrooke’s sheriff.

“He’s a bloody ponce,” Killian tells Emma, biting down on an onion ring. He decorates two plates and grabs two beers from the fridge, then takes them to the table and sets them down.

“He’s the only thing standing between you and a jail cell,” Emma says, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you always live so dangerously? Don’t you get tired of it?”

Killian gives her a look. “Darling, I _live_ for danger.”

Emma hums. She chews on an onion ring and pops open her beer, then licks her lips. “Okay, then, Danger, let me tell you what else he had to say. Apparently, the Darling kids have been missing for two days with no leads.”

He sits back in his chair as he has a swig of his beer and shakes his head. “Doesn’t make any sense.”

“No. In _Storybrooke_? Please.”

Killian’s stomach twists and he swallows thickly. “They’ve got nothing. Nothing at all.”

Emma shakes her head. “I overheard him talking to Regina about it. Apparently she’s just as pissed as you are about the whole thing. She thinks he’s covering up for something her mother’s trying to hide.”

Emma studies him for a few moments in silence. “Why do you even care about this kind of stuff? I know… you lost someone, but… you _care_ , a lot, for these kids.”

He hums a laugh. “I suppose.” He pauses. “I just think it’s rather interesting, don’t you? We live in this quaint seaside town where everyone pretends everything’s fine, but when it comes down to it, we’re all blind to what’s really going on.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s easier to be blind to things that we don’t understand.” Emma sighs. “People like easy.”

Killian gazes at her and nods. “Aye. It’s easier to believe that there couldn’t be children without parents in this happy little bubble called Storybrooke, but there are.” He shakes his head bitterly. “And the mayor won’t give me five minutes because I’m a _pirate_.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning back as he downs a heavy drink of his beer.

He finds Emma watching him, clearly thinking, and she checks her phone for the time. “I… I gotta go. Granny-”

She doesn’t finish her statement, just grabs another onion ring and bites down on it as she gets up from the table. He stares at her for a few moments and she back at him.

“Save them for later?”

“Always do.”

# # #

“Emma, you’re more than welcome to stay with Regina and I,” Mary Margaret says as they sit at the big wooden table in Mary Margaret and Regina’s loft apartment.

Emma cringes. “You know… I like my arrangement. It’s fine.”

“Living at Granny’s isn’t permanent,” Mary Margaret says with a shake of her head.

Emma looks down at her palms in her lap and traces lines into them.

She licks her lips and, not for the first time, she considers telling Mary Margaret that she’s spent the past few weeks on _The Jolly Roger_ , but it being that Mary Margaret has higher expectations than anyone Emma has ever met, she keeps her lips shut in regards to her complicated relationship status.

“It’s fine, Mary Margaret,” Emma insists. She gives her friend a firm, but gentle, look, and the brunette sighs as she splits a cookie in half to bite on it.

She glances down at the table. “You know, I overheard something today that didn’t feel right.” Mary Margaret frowns, her brow creasing worriedly. “It was… Cora was talking to Sydney about the story in the paper, you know, the one about the Darling kids?”

Emma’s stomach twists and she locks focus on Mary Margaret with a single nod. “Yeah.”

Mary Margaret shakes her head. “Emma, she was talking about a cover up.”

“A cover up,” Emma repeats.

Her friend bobs her head slowly. “She doesn’t want people knowing they’re gone. For some reason. They’re _children_ , Emma.”

“I know.” Emma says. She shakes her head. “Sheriff Graham said something about them not having any leads today while he was with Regina and I overheard him say they’re trying to find them.”

“I bet they know exactly where they are,” Mary Margaret sighs. “But why? Why cover this up?”

It’s then that Regina enters the loft, clearly in a fuming mood. She immediately says, “You’ll never guess what I uncovered today at the library.”

Regina comes to the head of the table and shakes her head. “There are stories written ten years ago that talk about some… Mad Hatter. I remember hearing my mother talk about him a lot but I never asked questions until today while I was doing research.”

Regina opens up a portfolio of papers and holds out a photograph.

Emma stares at the picture for a moment, of a man strapped down to a chair, his hair wild and his eyes bloodshot. “What happened to him?”

“They arrested him for causing public disturbance,” Regina says. “And brought him to an insane asylum nearby. But, I found a story that talks about a runaway patient that goes by Jefferson. The same guy. Apparently, local officials shot him and he died in the middle of the woods near where he used to live.”

Emma tilts her head at Regina. “Sounds like a good ghost story to me.”

“One that kids might be curious enough to investigate themselves?” Mary Margaret asks.

Emma turns to the woman and shakes her head slowly. “You don’t think… how could they have even known about this?”

“It makes sense.” Mary Margaret states. “They’re kids. It’s October. Kids talk about these kinds of stories all the time.”

“Yeah, but not three siblings under the age of twelve.” Emma argues.

Mary Margaret frowns. “I know. But… David called me and he said there was a lost dog brought to him. Apparently she was wandering around in the woods near a mansion. I can’t explain it. It just feels like they’re connected, Emma.”

Regina purses her lips. “This was one of the results that came up while I was searching for trends in cover ups my mother was in charge of. She always has Sydney write up a fluff piece on the police in order to maintain some forced feeling of security in town when things go wrong. I think… I don’t know, there’s something off about this one.”

Emma exchanges a look with Mary Margaret. “Those kids are _missing_. Do we even owe it to anyone to investigate for ourselves? The police are in charge. Not us. I don’t want to interfere with their investigation.”

“I think we owe it to everyone,” Regina says. “To tell the truth for once.”

Mary Margaret, oddly quiet, takes a deep breath in the silence that falls around them. She nods.

“I think Regina’s right. We owe it to Storybrooke. Something doesn’t feel right and if no one else cares enough to look for these kids… why not us?”

Regina smiles at Mary Margaret. “Exactly. Why not us?” She turns to Emma, who feels something tugging at her heart. “How about it, Swan? You in?”

Emma takes a breath. “Why not? _Someone_ should be armed.”

# # #

“You know, the forest is creepier at night,” Emma grumbles as she pulls her Bug to a stop before the mansion hiding out in the middle of nowhere.

Mary Margaret, from the back seat of Emma’s car, says, “It’s no creepier than it is during the day.”

Regina leans forward and stares out the window at the darkened mansion. “Somehow I think we’re about to be disappointed.”

Emma turns off the car and opens her car door, allowing the cool misty night into the cab of the vehicle. “Only one way to find out.”

Regina opens her car door and studies the massive building.

A chill runs down her spine and she hears noises in the night that only illicit irrational fear in her veins. She waits for Mary Margaret to emerge from the vehicle before closing the door, and when she slams it closed, there’s a noise from somewhere behind them, an eerie howl.

“Okay, who has a flashlight?” Emma asks.

Regina looks to Mary Margaret, but the woman shakes her head.

“Apparently we weren’t thinking about how dark it would be.” Regina sighs. “Don’t you have a flashlight on your phone?”

Emma sighs and digs into her pocket as Regina approaches the blonde. Emma’s front screen is filled with messages from the same person, _Killian Jones_ , but she doesn’t allow Regina to see what they say, instead turning the flash on and turning the screen off before she turns toward her and points the light in her eyes.

“There. Happy now?”

“Damn it, Swan,” Regina curses, wincing. “You don’t have to _blind_ me.”

The woods around them whistle with a gust of wind and Regina’s stomach jerks when she hears a foreign noise from behind them. She points ahead of them, wanting out of the woods as fast as possible.

“Who wants to lead the way?”

Emma shakes her head. “I guess I’ll do it. I’m the one with the gun.”

Regina takes a moment to look back and a terrorizing feeling rises up within her. “Swan.”

“What?” Emma snaps. “I’m going!”

Emma turns around and shines her light into the forest behind them. “Mary Margaret? Shit. Where’s Mary Margaret?”

Regina’s skin starts to feel clammy and she shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know. She was right here a minute ago.”

Emma, whom Regina knows is close with Mary Margaret, begins to shout her friend’s name, and Regina joins her, not knowing what else to do. In the darkness, Regina doesn’t want to stray too far from Emma’s light, and they end up covering no ground and finding nothing.

“Okay,” Emma says shakily. “We need reinforcements and light.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

# # #

When David gets angry, he’s kind of broody, but when he gets angry about Mary Margaret going missing, he immediately becomes the Hulk, and it’s something Emma has to wrangle as she’s standing at the door of his apartment.

“We need your help,” she explains, holding up her hands, her eyes wide. “Because if anyone can find her, it’s you.”

David nods. “You’re right about that. Let’s go. We can’t waste any more time.”

Emma stares at him and raises an eyebrow. “Okay. But you need a flashlight and some shoes, there, Hulk.”

As he’s getting his shoes on and then searching his place for a flashlight, Emma’s fingers twitch by her sides until she decides to check her phone.

She finds a couple of messages from Killian wondering if she’s going to meet up with him tonight, and she nibbles on her lower lip in thought before she types out a message.

She doesn’t have to wait long for his response. _Sounds dangerous. I’m in._

“Okay, let’s go.” David says, reaching around her for the doorknob.

Emma meets his eyes and holds his gaze. “You gotta be cool out there, David. You can’t strangle the first person we run into.”

“I’m cool,” he insists, but she can hear it in his tone that he’s losing control of himself.

She lets him open the door and then she steps outside. Neither of them speak until they reach her Bug.

Emma starts the engine and says, “We have one more stop before we go back out there.”

Regina gives her a look in the rearview mirror, her eyebrow arched. “Oh, do we now?”

“He has weapons,” Emma defends herself. “And he’s good in combat.”

“I’m sure he is,” Regina chuckles.

She rolls her eyes as she turns over the ignition. “Whoever has Mary Margaret is probably out there. Probably in the house. I can’t explain it, but it just feels like that’s where she is.”

# # #

“ _Mystery Machine_?” Emma asks, her eyes wide as she stares at the colorful font along the side of Killian’s van. “ _Seriously_? You seriously painted your van like this.”

Killian just shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve got plenty of time in my day, love.”

Emma gives Killian a look, but he just opens the back door while Regina hops into the front and David finds himself at home in the driver’s seat.

Apparently, this is happening.

“God, you’re such a dork,” Emma says lowly, her body turned toward Killian’s.

“Ah, but you love it.” Killian smirks wildly.

Emma rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Shut up.”

Emma slides herself into the van, her fingers flexing uneasily in her lap while Killian hops in beside her. He has a gun on his hip and as she looks down at the floor, she discovers snacks everywhere.

“What, were you planning on getting high in your hippie van?” Emma quips as soon as David starts to drive toward the edge of town.

Killian’s already digging into the Cheetos, his legs falling open as he leans back against the dirty seat that smells like a lifetime of mistakes.

“I inherited it from a job,” Killian tells her lowly. “It’s not _my_ hippie van.”

Emma rolls her eyes as his thigh presses up against hers. She lifts an eyebrow at him when his fingers find her hand atop her leg, but she doesn’t move his hand, because right now, she’s feeling kind of terrified.

If they can’t find Mary Margaret, Emma isn’t sure what she’ll do with herself. Mary Margaret has been her friend for a long time and she absolutely doesn’t deserve to be missing by a creepy mansion in the foggy woods at night.

The ride to the forest is quiet, with the exception of Killian’s munching, which Regina promptly puts an end to about thirty seconds in, and then Killian’s sighing and gazing out the window like some brooding teenager on a forced vacation.

“So, do we have a plan?” Killian suddenly asks when the van starts heading into the forest.

“Other than searching that creepy mansion in the middle of the woods, no,” Emma says.

“I’m going to beat them up,” David states, as if he has a complete handle on exactly what happened. “I’m going to beat them up for what they did to her.”

“Hey, woah woah woah,” Emma sits up, leaning forward to the front seat. “You don’t know what happened. Let’s do some investigating first, alright?”

Regina exchanges glances with her and presses her lips together in a line as she nods. “It’ll be alright, David. I’m sure she’s… totally fine.”

From beside her, Killian leans forward as well, folding his arms together against the front row of seats as they look out at the impenetrable darkness.

It’s still inexplicably foggy, and there are movements in the distance that makes Emma want to stay in the car, but she also desperately needs to make sure Mary Margaret is okay.

The second they pull up in front of the big dark mansion in the middle of the woods, David stops the van.

In the darkness, Emma sees nothing. She feels her heart racing as she stares at the front of the building, searching for something in the shadows, and the second she sets eyes on the window on the second floor, she thinks she sees something. A shadow, a figure, _something_.

She’s ripped away from staring when Killian suddenly tears open the door and when she turns back to look, the something is gone.

Feeling shaken, Emma has to catch her breath as she follows Killian out into the dark forest. Regina comes after them, and finally, David’s feet hit the ground.

“What’s our plan?” Emma asks as they all snap on their flashlights and gather together at the side of the van facing the building.

She finds herself looking at David, whose jaw clenches tight as his watery eyes fall closed. He shakes his head and swallows thickly before he straightens, surging with adrenaline.

“Okay,” he says firmly. “Here’s the plan: it might be better if we split up. We could cover more ground that way. Emma, Killian, why don’t you take the upstairs? Regina and I will search the main floor and… the basement if there is one.”

Emma sucks in a deep breath of the chilly night air and nods her head. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

David takes off without any other words shared and Regina follows after him.

Somewhere in the distance, there’s the sound of wolves howling, and Emma thinks she hears whispers, but she’s sure it’s just the wind when she glances up to see some leaves dancing on the ends of branches.

Killian raises his eyebrows, flashing his flashlight at her.

Emma shoves him in the shoulder and steps forward. “Shut up, idiot.”

“Oh, but I’m your idiot.” Killian says under his breath.

She’d turn around, but she doesn’t have the energy when she’s facing the creepy, basically haunted mansion in the middle of nowhere.

Emma’s fingers tremble as she watches David try the front door.

It’s open. The door hinge squeaks like nails on a chalkboard.

She really isn’t surprised.

# # #

The house is dirty, but at the same time, quite tidy and well kept.

There are sheets as white as ghosts covering the furniture of the rooms that they walk through in order to find the stairs, and once Emma and Killian stand on the top floor of the home, she has to steady herself with a breath.

He has been unusually quiet and she’s borderline about to hit the first person she runs into with her flashlight, because the damn house squeaks and groans and she keeps imagining shadows as she steps delicately down the hallways.

“There’s nothing up here,” Emma says, trying to be brave despite the fact that this house seems to have a life of it’s own.

Killian’s looking inside a closet, his head inside while he shines his light. “Aye.”

He shuts the door and Emma stares at the door at the end of the hall. It’s the only room they haven’t checked yet and Emma can only remember that shadow she’d seen in the window.

She opens the door with ease and it squeaks as it opens, but inside the room, there’s nothing except for a flight of stairs leading upward.

“Right,” she breathes. “The attic.”

Killian comes up behind her, his light pointing toward the top of the steps. “Up you get, Swan. We’ve got to find your friend.”

Emma sighs. “Yeah.”

Their footsteps aren’t delicate and Emma thinks Killian keeps touching her on purpose, so she keeps looking back at him.

“Darling, I assure you I’m right behind you,” he teases. “There isn’t anything to be afraid of while I’m by your side anyway.”

Emma rolls her eyes. She starts to feel just a little bit lighter about this.

Maybe the house is just sitting in the middle of the forest uninhabited. Maybe Mary Margaret just took off running and she’s currently sitting at home wondering what happened to them.

Or, more likely, she’s lost and needs them. It makes her feel guilty and like she owes her friend, somehow, because she wasn’t paying any attention to her when she went missing.

As soon as Emma reaches the top floor, she finds that they’re surrounded by abandoned furniture and hidden objects covered in even more white sheets.

Emma grimaces at the smell in the air and moves to check out the place, starting with a bookshelf along the wall that sits beside what appears to be a coat rack under a blanket.

“It’s so dusty.” Emma says as she shines her light on the books smeared in cobwebs. She realizes in that moment that Killian hasn’t made any noise, so she wonders aloud, “Killian, you okay?”

When Emma turns, she can’t find him standing anywhere nearby, so she takes a few steps into the sea of furniture and furrows her brow.

“Killian?”

She feels her blood draining and she looks around, desperate, because this is just how she lost Mary Margaret and it’s starting to feel very real.

“Boo!” Killian’s voice scares her so she jumps as she turns around. He’s smirking when she finds him standing right behind her and she shoves his chest angrily.

“God, Killian, you are such an ass.”

He winks at her playfully. “You love me though, Swan.” He pauses. “This place isn’t haunted. It’s just dark and old.”

Emma scoffs. She focuses on the beam of light coming from her flashlight as she makes her way forward again.

“Are we certain your friend came into the house?” Killian asks. Emma’s eye catches something as she steps forward and she tilts her head to the side as she goes to it.

“No,” Emma tells him. “But there’s nothing else around. Where else could she have gone?”

“I don’t know, maybe she fell into a bear trap,” Killian offers. She spins around and glares at him. He holds his hands up in the air and lifts an eyebrow as he sighs. “You know I’m joking.”

Emma shakes her head. “I don’t know why I’m sleeping with you.”

She approaches the wall she’d set her sights on and studies the bookcase pressed against it. It almost very obviously has been moved, recently.

“I think it’s because we make quite the team, you and I,” Killian’s saying, but she’s not paying him any attention, instead pushing at the bookshelf until it’s out of her way.

At the sight of a door, Killian goes quiet, and Emma jerks at the handle, finding it easy to pull open.

“It’s a hidden room,” she breathes out in awe as she steps deeper into it.

Emma soon discovers hats. Hats on hats on hats. They’re everywhere, stacked up against the walls, all over the floor, and in the middle of it all, there’s a desk.

“And here I thought this place couldn’t get creepier.” Emma says as she stares down at the sewing machine on the table. Her fingers caress the brim of the hat sitting there and she bites down on her lower lip, quirking an eyebrow as she turns back to tease, “Hat, Killian?” He’s not there, but there’s a creak in the corner of the room and she hears footsteps. “Killian?”

Emma drops her shoulders and shines her flashlight around the room as she searches for him. “Killian, we already did this once. You don’t need to scare me again.”

A chill runs down her spine and up her arms when she hears the floorboards squeaking, the sound coming closer, from somewhere behind the stacks of hats. “Killian. I’m seriously going to hit you if you jump out at me.”

A sick feeling fills her gut and she grimaces, tossing her head to the side. “Please? Come on. We need to go find David and Regina. Maybe they’ve found Mary Margaret.”

She realizes in that moment that the door is closed. Killian probably never came into the room.

But someone’s shadow moves in the light pouring in from the window and she grits her teeth. “Who are you?”

For a few moments, she listens, only hearing footsteps, and then there’s warmth beside her and a cold pair of scissors press to her neck.

At first, a breath, and then a whisper against the shell of her ear, “I’m mad as a hatter.”

# # #

The first closed room that David checks in the downstairs is a bedroom.

There are three beds, all made up fresh, and toys in a toy bin beneath the window. A rocking horse sways as if freshly used and as David steps into the room timidly, he finds a fresh candle.

“What the hell?” Regina asks for him as they take in the room.

“The rest of the house was a mess,” David says, furrowing his brow. “But this room…”

He stops himself when he hears a muted whimper and his eyes grow wide.

He crosses the room for the closet door. When he pulls it open and shines his light inside, there are clothes hanging from the rack, but even more horrifying are the three young children huddled together on the floor.

“Kids,” David breathes. “Are you… are you alright? I’m not going to hurt you.” David falls to his knees and frowns heavily. “What are your names? I’m David. This is my friend Regina.”

He glances over as Regina comes alongside him. She has a wary look on her face, and she merely leans down as she watches the children.

“I’m Wendy,” the oldest, a girl who sits between the two boys, says. “These are my brothers Michael and John.”

Regina’s face is white when he looks at her and she whispers, “The Darling children.” A smile spreads on her face. “Okay. It’s okay. We can help you.”

The youngest sobs against Wendy and David’s heart aches. “I’ll help you to the car, okay? We’ll bring you someplace safe.”

“She brought us here,” Wendy says in a whisper. “She told us we couldn’t leave because this is our home now. With…”

There’s loud noises coming from the upstairs, footsteps, but David doesn’t count two sets. He counts three.

“Okay. Regina, take them to the van.” David says firmly, but quietly. “I’ll handle this.”

# # #

Killian Jones has been tied up and gagged before, but the bag over his head is truly something new and special.

He’s been seated in a chair and he can’t move neither his hands, nor his feet. He grimaces as he gags against the cloth in his mouth and he tosses his head to the side in an attempt to knock the bag free, but it doesn’t work.

He’d been following Emma into the secret hidden room when someone came up behind him and knocked him out cold. Apparently, it’s easy to do that to him when he’s flirting with his semi-official (mostly un-official if you ask her) girlfriend.

After struggling against his restraints for a few moments, he listens. Through the burlap he can only make out a single sound, and it’s the sound of someone else in the room with him.

Killian grunts and squirms, trying to see if they can come to him, but they don’t. They just grunt and squirm right next to him.

He wonders if it’s Mary Margaret.

It’s likely, considering the strange happenings surrounding her disappearance, and how they searched the house for her and couldn’t find her.

Something creaks and groans. Footsteps come straight up to him and stop.

“Killian Jones,” a feminine voice says on a smile. “It’s so nice to see you here. It really is.”

Killian clenches his jaw and squirms, trying to get free with no allowance.

“Ah, don’t worry, Captain. She’s being taken care of. My… well, I wouldn’t call him my associate. I think _puppet_ fits the position best. Yes, my _puppet_ is currently handling her upstairs.”

Killian scowls and shakes his head.

She sighs softly. “Now, you, Mr. Jones, you’ve been on my Wanted List for months now. I just wasn’t sure how to get you cornered. Trespassing, breaking and entering, now… those are two things I can get you for.”

Killian jerks at his restraints, wanting out, to yell at her, to demand justice, but his captor just steps back and moves away from him and to, he presumes, the other person in the room.

“My hopelessly attentive girl,” she says. “You were never meant to know the truth. And I’m sorry for what’s about to happen tonight. But I have my hands tied over the matter.”

There are footsteps overhead and Killian realizes, as he listens to the woman ramble, that they’re currently in the basement of the house.

The air down here is cold, much like the crime being committed, and he realizes that he’s got quite a bit to live for as the woman taunting them removes his gun from his hip.

He swears, he’ll give up smoking, drinking, and sex, as long as he can get out of this and get to Emma. She’s being tortured or worse and he’s tied to this damn chair, unable to save her.

“Captain, do you have any last words or wishes?” she wonders as she caresses his jaw under the bag with his weapon. “Perhaps… I don’t know, an apology?”

Killian squirms against his restraints and grunts. “Oh, that’s right, you can’t talk back.”

The woman presses his gun to his temple and hums. “All of that snooping around looking for things I’d done wrong so you could get rid of me… I certainly hope that it was worth it.”

# # #

David finds Emma with a bloody lip, hovering over a body on the floor.

His eyes blow wide when he realizes that she has a gun in her hand, but he hadn’t heard her fire it, so he slowly steps toward her, his hands raised when she whips around to see him.

“Emma, what the hell is going on?”

“This guy tried to kill me.” She shakes her head. “Something happened to Killian.”

Emma grimaces and breathes out harshly as she wipes at her lip.

“We need a plan,” David says, stepping closer to her. He leans down over the body and finds that she knocked him out. He laughs and looks up at her. “Nice work.”

“Thanks.” Emma raises an eyebrow. “But you’re right. Where’s Regina?”

David shakes his head. “We found the Darling kids.”

Emma’s jaw falls open and she grimaces. “Were they-”

“They’re fine,” David adds. “She’s with them at the car. We just… didn’t find Mary Margaret.”

His gut twists at the idea and Emma frowns, looking sad. “Hey, it’s okay.” He finds himself comforting her. “We’ll find her. She’s still here. She’s still alive. I can feel it.”

Emma forces a smile. “Yeah.”

David looks down at the man on the floor. “Let’s tie him up and I’ll call the cops. Regina and I didn’t check the basement, so you and I can just…”

“Bust down the door and go in, guns blazing?” Emma asks skeptically. “I don’t know that that’s the best idea.”

David sighs. “Okay, then… how about this: one of us goes down while the other hangs back. Do we have rope to fashion a net?”

Emma gives him a look. “David, this isn’t a cartoon. Let’s just… go for it.”

# # #

Regina doesn’t necessarily like children, but these three kids aren’t terrible.

She helps them into the van, sitting them down in the middle row of seats, and they all shake and shiver with fear, occasionally glancing back at the house.

She notices that they all seem to avert their gaze from her, as if they’re afraid of her, and it offends her first off, but she understands it if only a little. She _is_ a stranger, after all.

“Hey,” Regina says as warmly as she can. “It’s alright. We’re going to make sure you’re safe.”

The girl, Wendy, holds the youngest boy, Michael, in her arms. She seems to be their spokesperson, because the middle boy, John, just bites down on his lower lip and keeps his eyes on the floor.

“Are you sure?” Wendy asks in a whisper.

Regina smiles, even though she’s _not_ sure, and nods her head. “Yes. Absolutely.” She glances down at the floor where the snacks are. “If you’re hungry, you can have a snack. It might be a little bit before my friends come outside again.”

None of the children move an inch. Regina sighs. She’s standing outside, leaning in as she studies the three missing Darling children, and she decides to sit on the floor of the sticky, disgusting vehicle in an attempt to make them more comfortable with her.

“Would you like to talk about who took you?” Regina asks quietly.

Wendy and John exchange glances. Wendy turns to Regina and nods her head.

“Alright,” Regina nods. “What can you tell me, Wendy?”

Wendy hesitates for a moment and swallows. “She was… very nice at first. She gave us chocolates in her office and she let Michael play with her fancy pen.”

Regina’s heart beats faster and she nods for Wendy to continue.

“And she brought us to her car to take us home, but she took us here instead.”

“What color was her car?” Regina asks curiously.

Wendy and John look at one another and both of them say, “Purple.”

Regina’s eyes widen. “Purple?” Both children nod. “Okay. What did she look like?”

Regina sees the children look away from her and it hits her like a ton of bricks. She needs to get back inside.

# # #

Emma’s stomach twists and she takes a deep breath as she and David stand at the stairs leading down into the basement.

She draws her gun. With David behind her, he’ll provide the light with his flashlight and only fight if necessary.

It’s not quiet. There’s talking. And if she knows anything from those hours in Killian’s cabin watching superhero movies, it’s some villainous monologuing.

The cops have been called and should be here any minute, but they still need to apprehend this person.

“Shit,” Emma shakes her head as she steps down the stairs and they squeak.

The voice stops. She decides in that moment that she’s going to be a complete idiot and she runs down the rest of the stairs, because Killian and Mary Margaret are at risk here.

She slows to a stop at the foot of the stairs with David shining his light toward the pair sitting.

“Okay, what the hell,” Emma states, only finding Killian and Mary Margaret both tied up with bags over their heads. “There was someone else here. I heard a voice.”

“I know who did it!” Regina’s voice carries from the top of the stairs.

Emma looks up to find the dark-haired woman shaking her head slowly, a scowl on her lips. She jogs down the steps and scans the room.

Regina flicks on her flashlight and starts scanning the room with her flashlight. Emma glances down at Killian, noticing that his gun is missing from his hip.

“Regina,” Emma says, “whoever they are, they’re armed.”

In that instant, there’s a crash, and a scuffle, and then it’s quiet again.

She glances up at David, who creeps back up the steps, as they’d planned. She nods her head at him and he flicks the light switch at the top of the stairs, completely illuminating the once dark basement.

She isn’t surprised to find that the place is a mess, much like the rest of the house, but what she is surprised to find is that their suspect is currently hiding under a sheet quite obviously between two crates.

“Now, let’s see who our criminal mastermind is,” Regina says. She nods to Emma, who holds her gun steady, and then pulls the sheet up off of the person.

“Cora?” both David and Emma ask at the same time, brows furrowed deeply as they glance at one another.

Cora, with her fuzzy hair, just smiles as she turns to her daughter.

“My mother wanted to secure the mayor’s seat for one more term.” She explains. “So she brought the Darling children to Jefferson’s mansion to keep the former patient at the insane asylum from blabbing about her misdoings- torture, really. You sent that man to the loony bin and made him crazy.”

Cora’s smile gives way and she scowls instead when Regina gets her in a vice grip. The younger Mills woman grabs the gun from her mother and tosses it aside.

“And I would have gotten away with it, too.”

Emma goes to Killian then as David goes to Mary Margaret. She removes the burlap bag from his head and he immediately squints as her fingers yank at the gag in his mouth.

“Swan,” he breathes, scanning her face. “Are you alright, love?”

Emma manages a smile. “Yeah.” She drops to her knees and works on getting his feet first.

“I’ve got a pocketknife in my left-”

She fishes into his pocket and they exchange mischievous smirks. “I know.”

“Gods, I’m glad you’re alright.” Killian whispers when she cuts through the rope around his wrists.

“Yeah. I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Emma hops back up and meets his eyes for a heartbeat before she goes to David and Mary Margaret, who are currently having a moment with their foreheads touching.

It soothes Emma to see that her friend is all right, to know that nothing horrible happened to her.

“Here’s a knife,” Emma says, extending the blade toward David. “Mary Margaret, are you alright?”

As David gets to work on Mary Margaret’s ropes, she nods her head and manages a shaky smile. “Yeah. I’m… just a little shaken up, but I’ll be all right. I never could have guessed my boss was a psychopath, though.”

Killian scoffs and Emma turns toward him as he steps up to her. “I’ve been trying to figure her out for years. It definitely isn’t the first time she’s tried something drastic for political gain.”  

Emma finds Killian’s anger just beneath the surface, in the way he creases his brow, and she knows how hard he’s worked to get her removed from office. Ever since she first threatened him when his brother died, he’s had it out for her and for everything she stands for.

She hears the cops upstairs and watches as Regina escorts her mother to the stairs. “Come on, mother dearest, it’s time for you to man up for what you’ve done.”

Next to leave are David and Mary Margaret, and Killian goes to grab his gun from the floor, so Emma lingers.

“What do you know, Killian?” Emma asks quietly. “About Cora?”

He shakes his head. “I know far too much about Cora than I could ever care to know. She’s the reason my brother’s gone. She’s the reason I’m a pirate.” He searches her eyes. “And the reason I don’t get in trouble for it.”

Emma furrows her brow. “What does that mean for you, then?”

Killian’s lips curl into a smile that immediately falls away after he laughs once. “I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll become a fisherman. Spend more time with you.”

Her heart leaps at the proposition and she cups his cheek, swiping at the scar under his eye. “Are you okay?”

His smile is more genuine, though small, and his eyes are just fractionally sad. Emma pushes up onto her toes so she can nuzzle his nose and her breath hitches in her throat before she decides to kiss him.

Emma drops to her feet and searches for his hand. “Let’s go home. I’m kind of hungry.”

Killian chuckles. “I’ve still got your leftovers from earlier.”

“Good.”

# # #

The scents of coffee, eggs, and bacon fill the air as Emma enters Granny’s.

It’s her only day off and her friends are making her come into work anyway. It figures.

She looks around the room and quickly discovers a booth in the back, occupied by her companions, with the exception being the leather-wearing scoundrel she’d made wait a few minutes outside.

Mary Margaret and David sit together, while Regina takes the opposite side. Emma opts to sit beside the queen bee, sighing as she does.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Regina huffs. “Where’s your puppy dog?”

Emma opens her mouth, furrowing her brows. “What? Killian?”

The bell above the front door tinkles and into the diner steps Killian. He winks at her when she turns to see him and she all but groans, rolling her eyes.

“There he is,” Regina says, and it makes Emma toss her a look as she shifts in the booth so Killian can join them.

His leg presses against hers and he flashes a grin at her. “Well, Swan, how are you this fine morning?”

Emma doesn’t reply, instead tilting her head at him, giving him a classic glare.

“ _Someone_ got up on the right side of the bed this morning,” Regina remarks snidely.

Emma turns and gives Mary Margaret a pleading look. The woman smiles warmly. “Okay. Now that we’re all here, why don’t we talk business?”

“What business?” Killian asks.

Emma shoots him a look, nudging him hard in the ribs. He groans softly, awarding her an equally as demeaning glare.

“You know. Our… _business_.”

David nods. “Mystery Incorporated.”

“Ah. The mystery sleuthing. Right.” Killian says. “I thought that was a one time thing. We put the mayor behind bars, rescued the Darling’s, and Jefferson’s getting the real help he needs someplace safe.”

Mary Margaret folds her hands atop the table and sighs. “We have another case.”

It’s then that Ruby, the waitress, stops at the table. She smiles at them.

“Hey, kids,” she says, despite the fact she’s their age. “Can I get you something to eat?”

Killian asks for enough to serve six and Emma rolls her eyes, asking simply for a hot chocolate and pancakes with bacon.

From under the table, Killian’s hand slides against her thigh and she shifts, giving him a look as their companions order. He just smirks, finding her hand between her legs and lacing their fingers together. 

Sometimes she hates him.

Sometimes she secretly loves him.

“So, about the case,” Mary Margaret says, lifting her vintage polaroid photographs and setting them on the table. She pushes them toward the trio in the opposing booth.

“We got a call,” David tells them. “A tip. Apparently, there’s a werewolf in town.”

Emma starts to get a feeling in her gut. She nibbles on her lip as she studies the photograph.

Regina scoffs. She sets her hands on the table, folded together. “Werewolves aren’t real.”

David and Mary Margaret exchange glances. “The caller said their dog went out for a walk last night and never returned. And, there were paw prints much bigger than their puppy’s.”

“Well, that sounds pretty paranormal,” Emma says sarcastically. “Let me just go grab my ghost vacuum backpack.”

Mary Margaret frowns and gestures to her photographs. “David and I went to check out the house. It’s legitimate.”

“It was chilling,” David agrees seriously.  

Emma’s stomach twists again and she gets chills. “So, what? What are we supposed to do about it? The first time we did this it was because we’d heard things about the kids and they’re happy and safe now. I don’t see any reason for us to get into _business_ over what we did.”

Regina’s newspaper sits on the table and Emma glances down at it, finding the headline: “Mystery Inc. Finds Missing Darling Children.”

“Who else are they going to ask for help?” Mary Margaret asks in a whisper. “We all know the police in this town are corrupt. They only put Cora behind bars because _we_ spoke up.”

Killian shifts beside her and Emma gives him a sideways glance. “What’s in it for us?”

“The caller said we’d be given a generous check if we figured it out and found their dog.” David shrugs. “So I’m assuming it’ll be good.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Emma asks. “Assuming we agree to this crazy thing.”

David smiles wide at her. “Breakfast first. Then… the van’s out back.”

Regina straightens up beside Emma and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Emma turns to look at Killian and he lifts his eyebrows as his tongue skirts along his lower lip. “My middle name _is_ danger.”

He winks at her and Emma sighs. “Fine, Mystery Inc., I’m in.”


End file.
